Tales of an Italia Spring Break, Part III: GamGam, Glassware, and Gondolas

Allora... Part III!


Wednesday, April 20 - Thursday, April 21 : Venice

Our train from Florence got in to Mestre station around noon, so we hurriedly check into our hostel and made our way to the actual island of Venice.  Gina and Abbey went to meet Christy, who came in on a later train, and then to find Gina's friend who is studying in Venice.  Brian and I decided instead to head over to the Jewish Ghetto.


After getting a little bit lost, we finally found the area we were looking for.  Of course, none of the museums were open since it was Passover, but it was still so interesting to see this tiny area in an already small city devoted to Judaism.  I snapped some pictures of the synagogue and the Yeshiva (one of the only buildings in the area that seemed full of life during this holiday time).  Interestingly, I tried to take a picture of the old barbed wire fence that still remains in one part of the original ghetto, and some security guards intervened.


We had been told that if we were to go to the Jewish Ghetto in Venice, we had to go to the restaurant GamGam and taste their Matzoh Ball soup.  What with Brian's cold and my inability to refuse such a thing, we decided it would be worth our while to see if this place was open.  So, after some hunting, we were able to find GamGam... and lo and behold... it was open!  

Seeing that it was packed with people, we walked right in... only to realize too-late that these were not customers from the ordinary public but a group of Hasidic Jews-- payot, tzitzis, sheitel, and all!  Immediately recognizing our mistake, we tried to back out without attracting too much attention, but it was too late.  We felt as though we had entered a Woody Allen movie.  All eyes in the room turned to us, and I'm certain you could hear a pin drop in this utterly Chametz-less room.  It was in that moment that a Hassid in the center of the room stood up and asked, "you are Jewish?"  

Brian knew the only way to save ourselves was to deny our religion and make a run for it, but something in the back of my throat and in the pit of my stomach would simply not let that kind of a lie slip out.  So, yes, I admitted we were Jewish, upon which point the room seemed to come back to life.  One boy, clearly a member of Yeshiva and trying to get in his mitzvah for the day, walked up to us and insisted that we stay, for they were about to have their Kiddush.  It would only take a few minutes, and the kosher for Passover food and wine would of course be free.  Now, I know it is a sin to walk away from this kind of thing, but we had less than one full day in Venice, and I have taken enough psychology classes to know a foot-in-the-door tactic when I see one.  

At this point, it was time to ask ourselves: what would Larry David do?  The answer was probably something along the lines of: awkwardly and obviously flooded with guilt, turn down the invitation, take five tries to get the door open to leave, get chased down the street by one of the Hassids, and be forced to refuse the offer fifteen more times... before finally being free to sit down at a good old-fashioned Italian restaurant to eat a plate of spaghetti bolognese... which, when sprinkled with guilt, simply would not end up tasting as good as it should.


And, yes, that is what happened.  At least now I have something to think about the next time I'm sitting in temple all day for Yom Kippur.


So after our lunch, we went for a long stroll, exploring the streets and wandering into shops.  The city of Venice is simply so unique, and it was a marvel to finally be able to see it with our own eyes. We had an especially great time looking at all of the Murano glass.  I bought myself two beautiful and very different necklaces, and Brian picked out a few really nice gifts for his family members.


After about an hour or two, we decided it was time to take our gondola ride.  This was not something I cared so much about, but Brian really wanted to do it.  It wasn't a terribly busy hour for the gondoliers, so we were offered a reasonable price and took it.  I'm glad that Brian convinced me because the ride was well worth it.  The relaxing sound of the water as we peacefully navigated our way from one waterway to the next was just perfect.  Plus, our gondolier pointed out some very interesting landmarks: the homes of Cassanova, Marco Polo, and Vivaldi, as well as the modern art museum.  I think, though, that the best part of the ride was simply the perspective we had of the city.  Although we walked around plenty, it wasn't until we were physically in this boat that we got to see those streets that cannot be reached by foot at all.  We saw the doors to peoples homes, completely inaccessible without the use of a boat.  I can only imagine living my life this way.


Following our pleasant gondola ride, we explored the streets some more and made our way to Piazza San Marco.  The square was teeming with people, but it was pretty to see nonetheless.  We took a few pictures of the Campanile of St. Mark's church, and sat down at a café for a few minutes (until we realized there would be a twelve euro charge "for the music"), and went off to find someplace to eat dinner.


We picked a place called Falciani, where I had more spaghetti (stop judging me!) and Brian had gnocchi with crab and shrimp.  By the end of our meal, we were fully satisfied, but really worn out from the day of walking around, sitting in the sun, and getting chased by Hassidim.


With that, we got back on the shuttle boat, saw some final pretty views of the city at night, got ourselves momentarily stranded (thanks to the horrible guidance of the front-desk woman at our hostel), used our wits to find our way back... and finally fell into bed.


Brian left in the early morning to meet his friends, with whom he would be continuing on to Greece for the rest of his break.  Abbey, Gina, Christy, and I, however, had a different stop up next on our agenda.  We got on our train Thursday morning and headed out...


Next stop: Roma!

We're really in Venezia!

Synagogue

Venetian Yeshiva

Chametz bolognese

Imagine: a footbridge to your front door!

First view from the gondola

From the gondola

more gondola

Us in the gondola

Tales of an Italia Spring Break, Part II: Leather Me Up

Ciao, readers!

I hope you haven't tuned out just yet because here comes Part II:


Sunday, April 17 - Wednesday, April 20 : Florence

The Bus2Alps bus left us in Florence with about enough time that evening to find our hostels and get ourselves dinner.  Interestingly, the group of us had selected a place to stay that is actually an apartment.  A little Italian woman owns it and allows travelers to stay for a reasonable fee.  It was quaint and homey, exactly the way we liked it.  In a way, it reminded me of the apartments we have in Paris and helped me see to an extent what students studying abroad in Florence probably experience.

Once we were all settled in, we headed out for our first meal in Florence.  Based upon several different recommendations we were given, we decided to try Acqua al 2.  We were told to try the pasta sampler, in which we would be brought five separate tastes of pastas served here, selected at random by the chef.  Unfortunately, we must have gone about it all wrong because just wound up generally confused about who had ordered what and who got how much from each plate.  We were also unsatisfied with how long it took for the plates to come out of the kitchen.  Those complaints in mind, the pastas we tasted were actually very good.  Notably, one had an interesting pumpkin flavoring to it-- very unique.  Brian also really liked his dish: he had a steak sampler in which he tried the famous blueberry steak and a balsamic steak.  I tasted them both as well, and we agreed that although the blueberry was very interesting, the balsamic was our favorite.

Come Monday morning, our best intentions to get out early were for naught.  We ended up spending a confusing hour with our landlady who, as sweet as she was, could simply not understand a bit of what we tried to communicate to her, and vice versa.  Once we finally got all of our minor issues and questions settled, we got ourselves lunch at a pizza place that advertised "free wine".  The wine, of course, was free because it was not very good, but we enjoyed our pizzas regardless.


Freshly fueled by this pizza, we were prepared to face a tremendous challenge: the leather market.  Entering the leather market is like walking onto a battlefield.  Vendors are calling at you left and right, sometimes even grabbing at your arms.  Bargaining requires a delicate balance of obstinacy and accommodation in order to escape explosions of sorts.  But the biggest battle of all comes from within: the fight for decisiveness and self-control.  

So lets just say we spent way more hours than I care to admit getting lost between stands, haggling ourselves into oblivion, and questioning whether our hearts would ache tomorrow after walking away from that last pair of leather gloves.  Ultimately, however, Abbey, Christy and I all purchased leather jackets at reasonable prices.  Unfortunately, Brian had a big struggle.  He found two jackets that were just perfect, and when it comes to these things, you cannot just walk away with both.  Alas, after all of these hours, Brian remained leather jacket-less.


That night, Gina wanted to take the girls to meet her friends who are studying in Florence, so Brian and I decided to go out for a nice dinner on our own.  We picked a place called La Giostra, which we had heard many people rave about.  Of course, we showed up at a quarter to ten and realized very quickly that this was, in fact, a very well-known restaurant, and there was no way we would be getting in without a reservation.  Disappointed, I tried to think of alternative restaurants, but Brian put on his game face and marched right up to the woman taking reservations.  I knew he wouldn't steal a stranger's reservation, so I didn't know what to expect.  He surprised me, however, by stating very simply and confidently, "two, please.  It's under Brian.  I called earlier."  Flustered by the fact that she had "obviously" made some kind of a mistake, the woman hastily added us to the middle of her list and had us seated in no time.  I think I'll keep Brian around.


Anyway, once we were faced with the menu, we tried to remember the advice we had been given about which dishes to order.  We knew that at this restaurant, we were meant to order a little of everything, and so it went as follows: 
- caprese salad, to share
- shrimp pasta in white sauce, to share
- veal scaloppini in lemon sauce, for me
- goat chops, for Brian
After ordering all of this, we quickly found out that there was an enormous appetizer platter on the house.  (I suppose the caprese salad was unnecessary.)  Regardless, we ate until we practically burst, and every bite was worth it.  The shrimp came out prepared as I have never seen it, claws and all, and the veal practically melted in my mouth.  We sat at our table and watched the entire place clear out before we felt it was time for us to leave.


We woke up Tuesday with a day full of plans, but were met with a minor setback: Brian had contracted something ugly and had just broken out of a fever.  But after medicating him thoroughly and listening to him insist he'd be fine, we marched out to see Florence.


First stop: the David.
Fail.
- Unfortunately, the line to see the David literally wrapped around three blocks.  We were frustrated and disappointed that we had not thought to purchase tickets to get in beforehand, but at the same time, we felt that with such a short time to spare in Florence, it would not be in our best interest to wait in line the entire day.  The plus side?  Now I have a very specific reason why I must return to Florence one day.


Next up: Duomo. 
Success!
- Somehow, we got very lucky in the moment we passed the Duomo because the line was temporarily very short.  After only about a ten minute wait, we were able to get inside.  It really is a beautiful church, but I think the real appeal is in climbing to the top and seeing the views of the city.  Again, we simply did not have time to wait on that separate line (much like the line for the David) and decided to move on to our next location.


Third: Museo di Palazzo Vecchio / Uffizzi Gallery. 
Success!
- We didn't actually go in to the museum, but we took a bunch of photos of the statues outside.  Some of these sculptures were truly remarkable, and getting to see the fake David made us feel a little bit better about missing the real one.  Sadly for me, however, this is the moment that my camera died for the day.  (Don't worry, we stopped for huge cones of gelato to make me feel better.)


Fourth: Ponte Vecchio. 
Wishful thinking.
- The bridge was nothing too special to walk across because it was covered with tourists, but I suppose I could see the appeal.  Through a window, Brian saw the watch of his dreams, so we stopped inside for him to try it on.  It was beautiful, with a mix of white and yellow gold, a sharp black face, and classy but understated detail.  Priced at only 3,000 euros, it was a real steal.  (All the more reason to return to Florence when we are billionaires.)


Finally: Giardino di Boboli. 
Takes the prize!
- After all the walking and sight-seeing along the way, we finally reached the ultimate destination we had been going for.  The Palazzo Pitti is where the Medici family lived in the middle ages during the peak of their major influence.  The palace itself was tremendous, but we really came to spend the afternoon soaking in the beautiful weather and strolling about the park.  We were well-rewarded for skipping the line at the Duomo because the views we saw from this location had to be just as splendid.  We walked around and laid in the grass for several hours, and although we covered quite a bit of ground, I still don't think we touched upon the majority of the lands included in the property.


Eventually we left the park, satisfied with our day's adventure, but something was still tearing up Brian inside.  How could he leave Florence without one of the leather coats he had found the day before?  And how could he pick just one?  Well, we made our way back to the shop, and as it turns out, the answers to those questions are: "he couldn't" and "by switching back and forth for about two hours until we were all about to collapse from exhaustion".  (I'm only mocking-- it is a very hard decision-making process.)  I know you're on the edge of your seats now wondering what happened, and the answer is, yes, he did end up picking just one.  It's a beautiful long black piece that I'm sure will prove to be well worth the time put into the decision.


Finally, we returned to our little apartment, napped, medicated Brian, and split up again for dinner as Brian and I chose to meet a couple we know from school and the girls went to find Gina's friends again.  

We went to Tredici Gobbi, which the two we went out with suggested.  They have been studying in Florence this semester, and they said that it would be a tremendous shame if we left without tasting the rigatoni dish at this restaurant.  We each ordered this starter, and I can tell you that it did not disappoint.  This was the kind of cheese sauce that had us cleaning the bottoms of our bowls with our bread, even after we were about to explode from all the pasta.  Finally, full again and trying to catch Brian's next fever before it started, we returned to the apartment to go to sleep.  

Early in the morning, we awoke to catch our next train.  Our stay had been short, but Florence had proven to be wonderful.


Next stop: Venezia!

A view to the outside gardens at our apartment in Florence

First Florence pizza!

A typical stand in the market

Leather in every shape and color!

Of course.

Inside the Duomo

Boboli Gardens

Tales of an Italia Spring Break, Part I: A Pasta Rebirth

Dry your eyes, my readers!

I have finally returned to update you on my European whereabouts.  I know you are probably leaning over your keyboard, falling into your computer monitor, completely on edge as you await my spring break update, so here it comes.   But first please wipe away that anxious drool that is dribbling down your chin, it's not a good look.

Now before we get truly into it, I'm going to give you the general itinerary of my past week in Italy:

- Thursday, April 14 - Sunday, April 17 : Amalfi Coast 

- Sunday, April 17 - Wednesday, April 20 : Florence

- Wednesday, April 20 - Thursday, April 21 : Venice

- Thursday, April 21 - Monday, April 25 : Rome

So in order to make this both easier for me to write and for you to read, I'm going to separate these posts into four individual ones for each leg of my trip.  Now, we can begin:

Thursday, April 14 - Sunday, April 17 : Amalfi Coast

Several of my friends and I had agreed to reserve all of our Italy travels of this semester for our spring break.  We all knew that we wanted to visit Florence, Venice, and Rome-- but those are the easy ones.  How would we manage to get down to the splendid smaller cities along the coast of Italy without any sort of guidance?  It would take a lot of frustration and aggravation to do on our own, so we conveniently found a trip pre-organized by a college-student travel company called Bus2Alps.  Four friends and I from Paris signed up to go as well as Brian and his friends, who were also on their spring break from Barcelona.

The Bus2Alps crew met us on Thursday in Rome's Ciampino airport.  We were told we had to arrive by 11:30 pm, so Abbey and I flew in on the only flight that could get us there before that time, which landed, of course, at 2:20 pm.  Ciampino is a tiny, tiny airport and actually a bit outside of Rome.  Needless to say, I'm pretty sure I re-read the same two magazines about ten times each to fill the 9 hours of down time we had.  Finally, however, it was time to go, and we shuffled onto the coach buses which drove us down to the coast.

We woke up early Friday morning (I mean, 6:30 am, early) to catch a ferry to the island Capri. Once we reached the island, we got off the ferry and onto smaller boats of ten people or so, which took us on a tour around the outside of the island.  Unfortunately for us, the weather was less than ideal, so we were a bit chilly and even felt some rain.  This did not, however, put a damper on seeing this beautiful place.  At one point, we got into even tinier boats of four people and had to duck down as the man rowing took us through a small opening in a chunk of rock.  When we came out on the other side, we were in the cave Grotta Azzurra, or the Blue Grotto.  This is a small sea cave that allows just enough light in to illuminate the brilliant blue water.  It creates a breathtaking effect in which it seems like the water in the boat around you is literally glowing on its own.

After we had changed back into to our bigger boats and returned to the island, we took a walk up towards the city center.  This was an exhausting 15 minute hike uphill, which felt much more like an hour-long, perfectly vertical climb after the three hours of sleep we'd had the night before.  We remained troopers, however, and snapped some pictures along the way in the beautiful gardens overlooking the water and the rest of Italy.

From the city center, we took a shuttle bus up to Anacapri, the locale of my first ever true Italian pizza.  I will tell you that the pizza did not disappoint me, but at the same time did not impress me all that much.  Of course it tasted very good, but I remained unconvinced that this pizza was any better than my Vincent's or Positano pizza back home on Long Island.

Following lunch, we took some time to wander around Anacapri.  I tasted my first ever limoncello at a local shop.  To be perfectly honest, I could hardly stomach the stuff.  I did, however, absolutely love the lemon-flavored chocolates and candies.  I actually couldn't get enough and kept popping into every shop we passed for more free samples.  I even pulled a "grandpa" and filled my pockets with whatever extra wrapped lemon sucking candies I could get my hands on along the way.

Finally, several hours later, we ventured back down to the water's edge where the ferry took us back to the mainland and we returned to our hostel.  Exhausted from the day and on so little sleep, our eyes were shut before our heads hit the pillows that night.

Saturday was the day that we took a bus to Positano.  I was excited to visit the city that was named after my favorite pizza place back home.  (What came first, the chicken or the egg?)  Fortunately, the day started out unlike the day before, with a blazing sun and a pleasant breeze.  We walked down the winding streets to the black-sand beach below where we set up camp for several hours.  Unfortunately, in the early afternoon, the sun began to disappear behind the clouds.   Brian and I decided it was a perfect time to sit inside for a nice long lunch.

We picked a random restaurant along the beachside called Chez Black.  We decided that since we had not yet had the opportunity to eat most of the foods we wanted to be eating in Italy, that this was a good time to try them all at once.  So, we proceeded to share a plate of pesto pasta, a breaded veal dish, and cheese pizza with mushrooms.  (If you're judging me, you're just jealous.)  I don't know how we got so lucky in choosing Chez Black, but from that first bite of pasta, I knew I would forevermore struggle trying to feel satisfied with anything else.  

I was practically brought to tears by this pasta.  Brian and I hardly looked up from our plates, except to ask each other questions like, "what will my life be after this plate is finished?" "how did I live before this pasta?" and "will I ever be able to eat again?"  Eventually we learned that our reactions to this first plate of Italian pasta is normal as foreigners, and that we should not be concerned about our lives being substantially or permanently altered.  Regardless, we couldn't help but sigh with relief at the fact that we still had a week of this in Italy to go.  

After the long beach day, we returned to the hostel, napped and showered, and headed to dinner at Il LeoneRosso.  Here I had another very good plate of spaghetti (this time with clams) and enjoyed some Italian wine.  Wine in Italy is actually very good, and interestingly, many of their wineries are structured very similarly to those in certain regions of France.  That said, you can call me a snob, but I'll still take French wines any day.

Sunday morning, we checked out of the hostel and took a bus ride to Pompeii.  I had always heard this was a great place to visit, but I wasn't exactly sure what to anticipate.  As it turns out, Pompeii is amazing.  We saw ruins of a city that to me seemed advanced beyond it's time.  We got to walk through a brothel and learned quickly that the people living in Pompeii had a good sense of business.  The hard stone beds would not be covered with anything that would render them more comfortable.  The logic behind this was that the pain induced by this would influence the clients and workers to "get the job done faster" so as to have the time to invite in more customers and more money.  We also saw some incredible artifacts, like old pots and other similar objects that remained preserved.  Most disturbing were the humans' and dogs' bodies that were frozen in time, distorted as they tried to escape after the volcanic eruption.  They had been excavated and preserved in plaster, but we could still see detailed facial expressions and the like.

We returned to the bus, which would be taking us directly to our next spring break Italy location.  This marked the end of an activity-packed but very fun-filled few days in the Amalfi Coast.  

Next up: Firenze!

Glowing blue water in the Grotta Azzurra

View of the lighthouse from our boat

First Italian pizza!

Pre-descent to Positano's black sand beach...

...half-way down...

...finally on the beach!

A bed in the brothel in Pompeii. It was used exactly as you see it. (ouch)

Street in Pompeii

Pompeii

Brian and me

Pompeii

Aye, it looks like we're in Dooblin!

Hi everyone,

We're back from Dublin already, which doesn't seem possible considering it was one of the very first trips we booked this semester.  Now there's just another short week before we leave for spring break.  Where has the time gone?

The group of nine of us arrived in Dublin late Thursday night.  The flight was quick and easy, and we were entertained by the high school students sitting around us who were returning to their home in Dublin after a trip to Paris.  I knew we were truly in Ireland the moment upon landing when the boy one seat over turned towards me and said, "aye, it looks like we're in Dooblin!"

We basiacally spend the rest of Thursday night getting settled in and exploring the streets around our hostel so we could wake up early Friday morning.  We spent this following morning giving ourselves a walking tour of the city.  First, we went to see Christ Church, which was right by our hostel.  We decided not to pay to go inside, but we took a few pictures outside.  We then ventured through Trinity College's campus.  For a moment, it made each of us miss our own universities (...but only for a moment).  The weather was beautiful and students were out playing tennis and laying on the lawns, really making for a wonderful atmosphere.

After exiting the school grounds, we headed towards Merrion Square where we were able to see the famous Oscar Wilde memorial and walk around the park a bit.  The Wilde memorial consists of a statue of the writer lazing out on a rock and a few small pillars covered in quotes copied in his handwriting.  There were a bunch that I had already heard and a few new ones that made me smile.  Here are a few that I think you might know or like:
- "I have nothing to declare except my genius."
- "There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about."
- "Nothing that is worth knowing can be taught."
- "Life is not complex. We are complex. Life is simple and the simple thing is the right thing."
- "Most people are other people."
- "Whenever people agree with me I always feel I must be wrong."
- "Nothing looks so like innocence as an indiscretion."
- "This suspense is terrible. I hope it will last."
- "I can resist everything except temptation."

After Merrion Square, we walked over to Saint Stephen's Green, the enormous park in the city center.  With the perfect weather and the freshly planted flowers around us, we were truly in bliss.  The area was full of people lounging on the grass, taking photographs, or out for their daily run.  We would have liked to stay in that spot all day, but we were starting to get hungry.

So we headed on over to the famous Leo Burdock's where many famous people have come before to enjoy Dublin's oldest Fish and Chips.  We each got our own order of this enormously portioned meal, which we savored down to the very last bite.  (We were less blissful half an hour later when we entered our food-comas.  But it was worth it.)

Following this meal (and a too-brief recovery period) we walked over to the Guiness Factory.  Most of us had already visited the Heinekin Factory in Amsterdam, so we thought we knew what to expect.  As it turns out, this place is far bigger and actually quite different.  Personally, I found the most interesting part to be the floor with all of the old Guiness ads, some dating back several decades.  Of course, we also got to go up to the top floor with its 360 degree windows and drink a free pint of Guiness.  I personally don't enjoy this beer much, so I didn't finish mine, but some of the girls really loved it.  To me, the best element of my beer was the shamrock design the bartender managed to incorporate into the foam on top.  Very cool.

A while later, we ate dinner at a bar and explored some of the pubs in the area.  Our favorite of the night was a place called O'Neills.  All of these venues had live performers, but the ones at O'Neills were members of a really authentic Irish group who played a mix of classic songs that we knew and Irish folk songs that we didn't.  We had a ton of fun there, dancing and singing along when we could.  In spite of all the fun, we didn't stay out too late because we had a huge day before us on Saturday.

This next morning, we awoke early to get on a private bus tour of the countryside.  It was the group of us eight girls (one was staying with a friend), one other American who had come on her own, and two german girls.  The driver of our van was an Irish man named Tommy, who had to be in his 70's, but was so full of life and enthusiasm that we couldn't help but smile at his crazy antics.  The tour itself was absolutely amazing and a hilight of both our Ireland trip and this semester abroad.  The drive, which included several stops and went from about 10 am to 6 pm, took us all over Wicklow.  Here is a bit of what we learned and saw:
- The new football and rugby stadium. It was built just a year ago and cost over half a billion dollars.
- The U.S. embassy (obviously obnoxiously out of place and overdone)
- Enya's house
- Several golf courses
- Approximately a zillion sheep
- Jonathan Rhys Meyers's insane property (maybe you know him as Henry VIII in the Showtime series, The Tudors).  His land is so expansive and isolated that we could only see it from a ledge along the mountainside.  Apparently, around this time of year, he throws ridiculous parties that can go on for up to eight days at a time and has his guests helicoptered in.  I wouldn't decline an invite.
- The bridge from the movie P.S. I Love You.  A fun fact about this bridge is that the water that runs underneath it is part of the stream that was used originally to make Guiness beer.
- The expansive field where Braveheart's big battle scene was filmed.  The scene included 3,000 actual military personnel, who were used as extras.  During filming, Mel Gibson made the individuals go through three takes.  On the third, he had riled up the extras-- the result being that they acted with enough intensity to require several ambulances.  Forty people were injured with broken arms, legs and the like.  I guess that's what Mel was looking for because that was the take that they ended up using in the movie.
- Laragh.  This is the tiny town where we took our lunch break.  We enjoyed half-portions (still huge) of beef and guiness stew.  Mmm...
- Glendalough (Gaelic for, "the valley of two rivers").  This is a Christian site that dates back to the 6th century.  The area was destroyed in the end of the 15th century, burned down when the British were discriminating against Catholics.  Tommy told us that on an ordinary Sunday, this site can have up to 10,000 visitors.  Fortunately for us, it was not quite that crowded, so we were able to walk around and snap some pictures without being overrun by other tourists.

This made up the bulk of our day, though there were a handful of other quick stops where we were able to get out, snap pictures, and breathe in the fresh, unpolluted countryside air.  The weather was absolutely perfect, and the scenes around us were simply extraordinary.

After this super-long day, we returned to our hostel to rest for a bit before heading back out.  We eventually headed back over to the Temple Bar area, where we went into The (actual) Temple Bar and a few other bars, including one called Quay's, which we liked very much.  Again, we enjoyed the laid-back atmospheres of these places and the live performing groups.  We headed back to our hostel eventually, completely exhausted from our day of activity.

We started our Sunday by checking out of the hostel and getting brunch nearby.  We then strolled down Grafton Street, a great shopping area, where my friends Allison and Erin bough themselves Claddagh rings.  If you're unfamiliar with these, they're traditional Irish rings that feature two hands clasping a heart.  The idea is that the ring is acquired as a token of love and worn either facing in, to indicate you are romantically involved, or facing out, to indicate you are available.  The rings they bought were really pretty, but I figured I'd be better off letting someone else get one for me one day.

After walking down Grafton some more, we returned to St. Stephen's Green.  We sat out on the lawn for a while, just talking and enjoying the feel of the sun on our backs.  Eventually, we dragged ourselves up where we picked up some ice cream on our way to St. Paul's Cathedral.  Erin had really wanted to go inside, but unfortunately, when we arrived they were not allowing visitors, as it was time for mass.  Instead, we plopped ourselves back down on this new lawn, where we talked and enjoyed the sun some more and watched a group of Irish children kicking around a soccer ball. 

Eventually, it was time for us to head to the airport.  We grabbed some sandwiches from a place called Munchies along the way.  My sandwich was good and kind of reminded me of what I always eat back at school, which was nice... but puh-lease... it was a far stretch from my indian chicken from SandwichLady.

Anyway, we were sad to be leaving, but agreed that we'd had truly had an amazing weekend in Ireland.  Between the city of Dublin and the Irish countryside, we really did get a glimpse of what makes Ireland so unique and fantastic.  I wish I had a bit more time to spend there, but then again, I can't wait for spring break!

Typical looking doors on the streets of Dublin

In Merrion Square

Us in Merrion Square (Me, Gina, Christy, Erin, Leslie, Abbey, Allison-- Ali took the photo)

Roommates! (minus Jess) St. Stephen's Green

Fish n Chips... after half was already eaten

Shamrock in my Guiness!

Shore

Jonathan Rhys Meyers's property (zoomed all the way in!)

Christy, Me and Abbey 

Christy, Erin, Ali, Abbey, Me, Gina, & Allison on the P.S. I Love You bridge

Countryside

P.S. I Love You bridge from below

Braveheart battle scene locale

Stream in Glendalough

Glendalough

On the lawn outside St. Paul's Cathedral

Wherefore art thou, Sandwich Lady?

Hi Everyone!

Just thought I'd pop in for an unexpected mid-week blog.  It's been so nice just spending these past two weeks here, really experiencing the dreamy beginnings of April in Paris.

On Saturday, we woke up and made omelettes at our leisure.  Then I dealt with my laundry situation (I really must never again get to the point where I need to do five loads at once) while Abbey studied for her French midterm.  The day, however, was simply too nice to be spent indoors-- it actually hit 70 degrees!-- so we decided that we would venture out for the rest of our afternoon.

We headed down to the Marais to pick up our sandwiches and sit out to eat by the Centre Pompidou.  We were a bit distraught, however, when we found out that our sandwich lady's boulangerie is closed on Saturdays.  Unsure of what to do, we wandered a bit until we found some mediocre sandwiches at another boulangerie.  Fortunately, the scene outside Pompidou counteracted our affected moods, as there were a few performers out and enough people around to be entertaining without being overwhelming.

After our lunch ordeal, we headed towards some vintage stores we'd been dying to stop into for the longest time.  Aside from our experience with one woman working in Aquarêves who seemed to be intent on annoying us right out of her store, we had the greatest time ever trying on some ridiculous items.  I ended up buying a really cool t-shirt dress and a pretty top, and abbey wound up with a really cute dress of her own.  I also got a black clutch, which I've desperately needed here and will be sure to make good use of.  The best part about all of this?  The prices were just so reasonable!

On our way back to our apartment, in high spirits from our retail and sunshine therapy, we decided it was about time to stop by Pêre Lachaise-- something we've been meaning to do since we've arrived in Paris.  This is a really famous cemetery that's just a 15 minute walk away from where we live.  Of course, as soon as we arrived, the security guards were closing the gates.  I managed to snap one picture or two, but we'll have to go back another day.  Oh well... "A" for effort!

On Sunday, we had hoped to get back to Pêre Lachaise, but unfortunately the beautiful weather spell had passed.  It was okay, however, because we managed to make the day productive, getting some work done and stocking up on groceries.

Monday was just another school day.  We went back to our sandwich lady for lunch-- her shop was open, but she was nowhere in sight!  To ad insult to injury, they were all out of our Indian chicken sandwiches!  Fortunately, Abbey and I are resilient, and without panicking too much we were able to select another sandwich each to try.  Indian chicken they were not, but delicious they certainly still were.  I guess a small change here and there isn't really so bad.

Later that evening, feeling spontaneous and benevolent, I decided to cook Abbey a surprise dinner.  It was a surprise in that she didn't know what I was making.  She had some trouble guessing from the ingredients.  Let's see if you can do any better:
- baguette
- tomato sauce
- shredded mozzarella cheese
- mushrooms
- onions

If you guessed baguette-pizza, you are correct.  Simple as this was to make, it ended up being really delicious.  We complemented our pizza with some nice Burgundy red wine and enjoyed an appetizer of mozzarella and tomatoes.

Tuesday was nothing more than another ordinary day of classes.  We went to visit our sandwich lady as per usual only to find that she was missing in action again!  At least the boulangerie had our Indian chicken sandwiches though... 


Abbey and I never really go out for meals here, but we decided that since we hadn't traveled in a while and had cooked all of our meals this past weekend, it was okay for a little treat.  We had been wanting to try a little place called Chez Omar, a 25 minute walk from our apartment, which is celebrated for its couscous.  We shared two entrées-- a filet of steak in mushroom sauce and chicken couscous-- both of which were delicious.  We drank a 2009 Côtes de Provence rosé wine with the meal and completed it with a scoop of lemon sorbet for me and café ice cream for Abbey.  The meal was excellent, but we were so full, we could barley even walk ourselves home.

And now here we are, on Wednesday.  I just enjoyed a delicious falafel for lunch and must go to French class before I can return to the 70 degree weather outside.  I also just signed up for the classes I'll be taking in the fall-- how is it possible that I'm going to be a senior?!

Tomorrow we're off to Dublin with a big group of girls, which we're super excited about.  Of course I'll be back to fill you in on every detail!


À la prochaine!

P.S.  Sandwich Lady... if you are reading this... where are you??

Baguette-Pizza dinner (not the best pic, it's from my phone)

Chicken couscous

Sorbet citron et glace café 

View from our bedroom window-- it finally looks and feels like spring!

A shot of one of the trees in our courtyard

The longest blog you ever did see...

Hello, my loyal readers (Jaime?)!

This has been the longest you’ve been forced to wait on the edges of your seats to be updated on my European whereabouts.  So where have I been this past week?  Budapest?  Helsinki?  Minsk?  Warsaw? No, no, no and no.  I’ve been in the greatest capital city of them all: right here in Paris, France.

And now you must be wondering, what thrilling activities have I been doing that have kept me away from you for so long?  Well, the answer is simple:  Midterms.  Can you believe that this semester is already halfway over?  Where has the time gone? 

But I’m getting ahead of myself now.  Let me take you back to last week: 

On Tuesday we had our midterm for wines.  During my study break, I was fortunate enough to be able meet my friends Jocelyn, Kristin and Arielle, who were traveling Europe on their Cornell spring break.  We went to the Jewish Quarter, grabbed falafel, and walked around for an hour.  It was nice to see some familiar faces but a little weird to be reminded that life is really going on back at school without me.

Thursday afternoon, Abbey’s parents arrived for what would be the beginning of their short visit here.  They were tired from their travels, but we decided to take them on a bit of a walking tour anyway.  We took the metro to the Tuileries and proceeded to walk through the gardens, past the Place de la Concorde, up the Champs Elysées, over to the Arc de Triomphe.  We then returned to Republique, where their hotel was, and went out to a very nice Mediterranean couscous dinner.

Friday morning, Abbey and I had an excursion to attend for our wines class.  The event was the Salon des Vignerons Indépendants, all the way out across the city.  This is a wine show that occurs twice a year, once before Easter and once before Christmas, in which independent winemakers from every region in France come together, set up tables, and have the largest wine-tasting event in Paris.  There are over 5,000 different tables of wines, each of which displays bottles from unique wineries that have been produced with care and passion by the very people standing beside them.  The wine is for sale, of course, but the point is to travel around the tables, tasting the wines and interacting with the people. 

The nature of the French wine-making process is, in general, very traditional, and thus, the majority of the winery owners are individuals descended from families that have been on those very lands for centuries.  Of course the wines themselves are spectacular—some cannot be purchased anywhere except directly from the hands of these sellers, in person—but it was really this historical and familial element that made the event so amazing. 

Oh yeah, and no one spoke any English.  All this did for me was force me to recognize how competent I’ve become in French.  Of course, I do not speak perfectly, but when placed in this situation, I was able to engage in exchanges that were detailed, lengthy, and impassioned.  While I was proud of myself in seeing my progress, I was more impressed by the histories shared with me by these vignerons.  To see them display such affection and fervor as they shared the fruits of years of labor was really so inspiring.

We finally left this wonderful event to meet back up with Abbey’s parents and mine, who had just arrived in Paris as well.  After taking ten times longer than necessary to get out, we all voyaged over to the Jewish Quarter, where everyone had a taste of our favorite falafel.  We then took a long walk along Île de la Cité and to Notre Dame.

On Saturday, we took a train out to Versailles for the day.  The lines were long and it was starting to get hot, but the place was truly remarkable.  While it was certainly a major tourist attraction, it was pretty cool to walk where some of the most famous kings and queens have been, to see just how lavish it really was, and to actually experience the enormity of the grounds. 

After Versailles, Abbey and I had to break away for a few hours.  Our roommate, Christy, had won tickets to a Rugby match in a raffle, and she offered her extras to us.  It took us a while to get there, and as soon as we sat down, it started to rain, but aside from all that, the experience was awesome.  The match was Racing Metro 92, a Parisian team, versus Toulouse.  Every seat in the stadium was packed, and we were sitting just eight rows back directly behind Paris’s goal.  The fans were so alive and the game was so exciting!  Although Toulouse had been projected to win, Racing Metro took the prize with a final score of 43-21 and a fireworks display.

After the game, we met back up with our parents at our corner brasserie where we had a really nice dinner.  Everyone’s meals were very good, and we all enjoyed a bit of escargot.  We left very full and very tired from our long, long day.

Sunday morning, Abbey’s parents left early to fly back to New York.  Later on, we met up with my parents near the Eiffel Tower to have onion soup at one of our favorite places.  We followed this with a visit to the Rodin Museum.  This was an outing that I had to be convinced to participate in—I’ve never been so fond of sculptures.  I couldn’t have been happier, however, that I decided to go along.  We got to see some famous works—The Thinker, The Kiss, The Gates of Hell—and I really obtained a new appreciation for this type of art.  For once, I was really able to see the way a skilled sculptor can capture emotion, movement and life in something is, in fact, so lifeless.

Monday and Tuesday morning were devoted to French and Communications exams, but when it was all finished, I met back up with my Mom and Dad for what would be a long walk further south into the city.  We explored the Latin Quarter a bit, and I took them to Première Pression Provence, the olive oil and spreads place that Brian and I discovered back in February.  We bought a few of the best we tasted and then wandered further south through the Luxembourg Gardens.  The day, which had been pretty dreary, really cleared up and made the walk that much nicer.

We continued past the gardens and finally reached our next tourist locale: the Catacombes.  The Catacombes de Paris is a famous ossuary.  Originally, these caverns and tunnels were Paris’s stone mines, but eventually, when cemeteries were beginning to overflow in the late 18^th century, they became the new home for decomposed bodies.  The ossuary holds the remains of about 6 million people, stacked and organized with precision.   It was a bit overwhelming at first to see all of these bones, but we agreed that after a few minutes, we became detached from the idea that these had been actual people.  It is simply too overwhelming to think of the faces and personalities that had belonged to these bones.

After the Catacombes, we agreed that we all needed a glass of wine.  We had a seat for an hour outside at a café where we enjoyed a glass each and then returned to the 11^th arrondissement to pick up Abbey and get dinner.  We chose a Brazilian place called Ave Maria and were surprised by how much we enjoyed our food.  This was a great new discovery for Abbey and me, especially because it is right in our neighborhood.  We will be sure to go back there again another night.

On Wednesday between our classes, Abbey and I took my parents to our favorite boulangerie for lunch.  The lady there (read: our best friend) was thrilled to be giving us four, rather than two, of our daily Indian chicken sandwich.  We sat out by the Centre Pompidou to eat, and then stopped for some cafés.  We separated again in the afternoon and met up later that night for dinner. 

Dinner itself was a great activity because a friend of mine from school, Jenni, was visiting Paris for the week with her mom and siblings.  The four of them, my parents, Abbey, and I made a reservation at an Italian place called Le Cherche-Midi.  I think we caused the waiter a bit of a headache when we had him translate the entire menu for us and repeated all of our questions ten to fifteen times each in spite of his consistent answers.  It was worth it in the end, however, because we were able eventually to order and really enjoy our meals.

On Thursday, I met my parents after class for our last few hours together.  We went the Musée Jacquemart-André, which someone on the plane recommended to them.  I had never heard of it, but it proved a great decision to go.  The museum was originally the private residence of Edouard André and Nélie Jacquemart.  Edouard was from a Protestant banking family and had quite a considerable fortune.  The couple traveled the world, acquiring precious works of art that they decorated their astonishing mansion with.  Some of the pieces that we saw, by artists like Van Dyke and Rembrandt, were really amazing, but to me it was the house itself that took my breath away.

We finally returned to my parent’s hotel where we said our farewells.  The week had been long, exhausting, and activity-filled, but worth every minute.

Now Abbey and I are enjoying our breakfast omelets and our class-less Friday!  I hope I haven’t lost you somewhere in this blog post of record-breaking lengths… Oh, and there are more pictures to come when my parents send theirs along.

À la prochaine!

Outside Versailles: so much gold and so many people 

In Versailles

Marie Antoinette

Hi Mom! Love you!

Us at rugby

Rugby and our amazing seats! (Not zoomed in!)